First: let’s play a round of “Expectation vs. Reality”

Expectation:
For the record, I had plans for these last two weeks of the year. Seriously. I was going to go through, finish cleaning out my apartment, organize my electronic files, finish up some lingering projects… you know, all those things that allow one to feel like they’re starting the new year in some semblance of control over their life.

Reality:
…did I mention that I’m moving on Saturday?

But we are! The week before Christmas, Sachiel & I took the Friday beforehand to go look at a couple of possible apartments… and came away completely disheartened. Personally my favorite was the guy that was willing to rent to us and then when he found out I had two dogs, told me the rent had just increased $100/mo. Seriously, dude? I mean, I’ll pay a full deposit or a pet fee, that’s fair, but you want me to pay you $1200 more a year for the entire time I rent from you?

Episode II: The Search Continues

Christmas Eve, we had one place to look at before Sachiel went to visit with Polgara’s cats for two weeks & I migrated with the puppies to the Long Beach Menagerie for a week. When we’d looked at the ad earlier in the week, I’d said to Sachiel, “I vote we just show up at the open house with the dogs and let them charm the landlord the way they do everyone else in the entire world.”

Sachiel was in agreement with this, so when we walked in & the property manager appeared to be a fairly normal, non-shifty lady who responded to my question about two dogs with, “Oh, I have a 13 year old Doberman, that’s fine” — I’m not gonna lie, I could have hugged her. However, this is California, and thanks to the celebrities we have laws about touching & keeping a legal safe distance from strangers, so I held back.

Instead, I offered to bring in the miscreants so Property!Manager could meet them.

On the way in, I looked at my errant canine children & said, “Okay, before we go in, both of you need to pee now or forever hold your peace. Go on, go potty.”

Ernie, always happy to show off that he’s a little boy, obligingly lifted leg & emptied the tank.

Zoey on the other hand, looked at me & was all, “I’m good dude. Totally good. Let’s do this.” Since Ernie is normally my troublemaker, I let it pass & we went in to the potential new apartment.

…where, after prancing about & initiating Property!Manager into their fan club, Zoey promptly trotted over to the smaller bedroom & hunkered down to pee on the carpet.

Luckily after a decade of hanging out with Zoey, I know the signs & was able to rush over, pick up her troublesome ass & scoot her out the door with Sachiel before she did any major damage.

After apologizing profusely to my prospective landlord, I went outside to get napkins from my car to sponge things up. Sachiel, who’d been outside with my urinary miscreant, took the napkins inside, and I stood there with Zoey.

“Well go on then,” I told her, “you might as well pee the rest of it out & finish what you started.”

At which point she laid down on the grass as if to say, “Nah, I’m good. I just wanted to do it there.”

:sigh: Little bitch.

Thankfully, Property!Manager wasn’t offended, and let us know there’d been another dog in the apartment with the last tenant, so Zoey was probably marking territory & they’d been planning to shampoo the carpets before the new tenant moved in anyway.

She was also really nice about the fact that, in the hubub, we’d totally just leftErnie with her in the apartment off his leash.

I don’t know if the two dogs had decided to declare Opposites Day just to screw with the humans or what, but while Zoey was expressing herself, Ernie was, according to Property!Manager, “Such a good little boy — so cute and well-behaved!”

Luckily, Virginia, there is a New Apartment Santa Claus.

oh, but don’t worry – the universe continued to screw with me. because it’s fun.

For oh yea, there is joy in the land, my beloved miscreant readers – Sachiel & I went forth & offered up two cashiers’ checks to the Gods of Security Deposit & First Month’s Rent, and I left my 30 day notice letter at 1049. We got keys to the new abode, and Property!Manager promised to email us the lease because her printer had run out of ink that morning.

All was well.

Then, as we were at 1049 (where my printer lives) and I was reading the lease, I saw this:

No it is too long, let me sum up: The lease says that if the landlord gets through the condo zoning process & decides to start selling the units off as condos, they can kick us out at any time with 30 days’ notice.

Because no. No way. No way was I going to move into a place, thinking I’d be there for at least a year, & then get told that I’d have to move out & have only 30 days notice to find a place that would take two dogs. No.

I mean, seriously, I was trying to be like, an adult & be calm & reasonable about the whole thing, because hello we’d already put down the deposits & sh*t, so we kinda had to sign the lease & move — but that wasn’t mentioned in our tour or anything, so while I could plan contingency and all, the five year old in my brain was totally not dealing well.

However, Anya talked me off the ledge and I emailed Property!Manager & managed to very calmly & casually be all, “Hey – what up with that?”

…and a few hours later, I got a response from Property!Manager that no no, this was just something they have for all their properties, the owners have held the property for nine years & had no intention of selling. It seems the properties had actually been zoned for condos about five years ago, and she kept telling the owners they needed to change the language in the contracts because it keeps causing this question from new renters, etc. ::insert further annoyance with employer here::

You know what the hardest part of moving is? The part where you move.

…which is where we are now. Sachiel & I had two options: we could shift things over a bit at a time over the course of the month… or we could just freakin’ do it & try to get everything in by this weekend so it would all just be over.

Of course we chose the crackhead option.

Which meant we spent our New Year’s cleaning the new apartment, and in my case, packing up the old one. and yesterday, doing online traffic school, but we’ll talk about that later.

On Saturday, Math & DJT are going to come help us move the larger furniture-type things (big couch, oversized armchair, bookcase, desk & a trunk) and various other shiznit, after which Sachiel & I will no doubt have to fall over & sleep for a while.

Hopefully by Monday the only thing left to do will be for me to go back & clean the old place, hand over the keys, and glare ominously at Old!Landlord to remind him that he should get my deposit (and the 10 years’ interest that West Hollywood renters’ law entitles me to collect) to me quickly because let’s be honest – should the occasion require, sometimes… I’m kind of a bitch.

And after all that’s done, I just have to circle back to where we started: Expectation.

because all of those things that I was going to do over Christmas break before I knew I was moving?

Yeah. they still need to get done. But at least now that I’ve moved significantly west towards where The Things That Make Up My Life reside, I’ll have an extra hour & a half of time not spent in traffic each day to work on actually accomplishing them.

Which means I’ll probably only have 45 minutes of free productivity time because really, who are we kidding — I’m totally going to sneak in some sleep.